


School Spirit

by KaelsMiscellany



Series: High School cubed [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, High School, Multi, PWP, blame tumblr, established Pydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2265216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jordan says yes.</p><p>And then there's sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	School Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> This can be completely and utterly be blamed on [Rantsofafangirl's](http://rantsofafangirl.tumblr.com/) graphics, specifically [this one](http://rantsofafangirl.tumblr.com/post/96617485597/pydian-highshool-au) and [this one](http://rantsofafangirl.tumblr.com/post/96742153167/pydian-highschool-au-peter-and-lydia-finally). With this story basically taking place soon after the second one.

Jordan's nerves jump from 10 to about five million when the game ends, _they saw right? Of course they saw._ Lydia had noticed first and pointed it out to Peter during a water break, Jordan'd felt their eyes on him for the whole rest of the game.

But the two of them have seemingly vanished in the impromptu celebration going on on the court, it was by a narrow margin but BHH won. Getting up he joins the steady stream of people still leaving the bleachers, forgetting that walking around the court actually makes things  _harder_ considering he's now also got to force his way through the crowd.

Somewhere in the middle someone snags his wrist and tugs him back. Whirling around Jordan see Peter still in his uniform wearing a shit-eating grin; the hand holding his wrist feels worlds more intimate all the sudden. “Come on,” Peter tugs on his wrist again. “Lydia's waiting.”

A flush stains his cheeks as he lets Peter lead him out of the gym. “Where are we going?”

Peter turns his head and waggles his eyebrows. “Somewhere we'll be alone.”

Even though Peter's words make Jordan's blush worse he also can't help but laugh at the other teen's delivery. They quickly reach the doors that lead into the cafeteria which Jordan would have thought locked, but when Peter tries the handle it opens.

Once inside Peter leads him towards and down a hall Jordan doesn't think he's ever been down before. But halfway down the hall Jordan finds himself. . .lightly. . .shoved against the wall, Peter pushing against him just as suddenly and kissing him.

As far as first kisses go it's rough, a little sloppy, and could be better, but Jordan finds himself responding just as feverently. And when they break apart the both of them are breathing heavily. One of Peter's hands snakes under Jordan's t-shirt high enough to come up against the painted numbers and he shivers at the contact. “I really liked this,” Jordan can feel the paint peel a little as Peter scratches it. “And  _very_ clever. Becoming more enamored with school spirit are we?”

The flush that had momentarily vanished returns full force, and just briefly in the dim light Jordan can see Peter's teeth flash in a grin before the other boy leans in and kisses his cheek. Then he's pulling away and leading Jordan down the hall again.

They reach a room with a bar of light leaking out the bottom of the door, and like with the cafeteria doors before it opens when Peter tries the handle.

Inside the room is clearly for some sort of music class not that Jordan can figure out anything more than that, not with Lydia sitting on the piano bench still in her cheerleader outfit; Jordan, like a lot of high school boys, has great affection for cheerleading skirts and has pretty much lost track of the fantasies he's had of Lydia in hers.

She frowns a little when she sees them. “You started without me,” her tone's chiding. “I'd thought we had a deal Peter.”

Jordan wonders if he'll never  _not_ be in a constant state of blushing around them. If Peter's expression changes Jordan can't see it. “Awww come on Lydia, he's wearing  _my number_ . I'm supposed to resist that?”

And that's probably his toes turning pink, along with his cock growing more interested by the second. One of Peter's hands gently shoves him forward. “If you don't kiss her now we'll never hear the end of it.”

He feels worlds more self-conscious going up to Lydia with her now outstretched hand than he did with just Peter in the hall; probably because there's an audience now, even if it's an audience that kisses him too, and it's going to take some getting used to.

Lydia smiles encouragingly as he takes her hand and pulls her up, thought it might have been better to kneel or something because as it is their height difference is a bit more of a problem. Her smile turns into more of a grin, “you  _can_ pick me up.”

Ah, uh, Jordan wonders if they're psychic because that may or may not have been one of the aforementioned fantasies. He shudders when his hands touch the bare skin of her thighs; she gives a little hop when he hoists up and before he knows it her legs are firmly around his waist and. . . _fuck._

Her fingers tangle in his hair as she pushes him down for a kiss, she tastes like cherry lip gloss and Jordan's hands tighten on her ass. She gives a little moan and pushes more firmly against him, and Jordan's pretty sure he's going to come in his jeans if he isn't careful.

When they break apart she smiles again before untangling her fingers and wrapping her arms around his chest. She shifts slightly and rests her chin on his shoulder. “Well? Are you going to pitch in or do I have to do everything myself?” Jordan'd kind of forgotten about Peter, which just went to show how engaging Lydia was.

“I don't know,” Peter's voice sounds a little rough. “You seem to be doing well enough on your own.”

Jordan finds himself reacting to it his grip on her ass tightening even more. She surprises him by arching, “mmmm, harder.”  _Holy_ fuck. He staggers a little and Lydia laughs. “Well if not for me than for Jordan, I think I just broke him.”

Peter's deep chuckle sounds a lot closer than his voice had a few seconds before; though before Jordan can even properly react to that he feels Peter press up against his back, a totally alien sensation that has Jordan squirming when he realizes it's Peter's own hard cock pressing against his ass.

Arms wrap around Jordan, steadying his hold on Lydia, and another chin rests on his free shoulder. “What, with your love of rough sex? Sweetheart,” Peter turns his head slightly and kisses Jordan's neck, his knees buckle a little and he finds himself leaning more against Peter. “it would have come out eventually anyways.”

Jordan's tastes have always been very middle of the road. . .vanilla, when it came to sex; not that he didn't know about kinks he'd just. . .never really found them that interesting –he has a feeling that's probably going to change soon. “Should. . .should I be worried?” He feels that should be a question they answer now. The breath from their laughter ghosts across both sides of his neck and he shivers again. “Also I think I might fall down soon if you keep this up.”

Which causes them to laugh harder. “Don't worry Jordan, we'll save the really crazy stuff for later on in the relationship.” Lydia manages to get out through her laughter; and it causes an unfamiliar warm feeling in Jordan's chest.

“And there's a nice flat riser a few steps away if you really feel the need to sit down.” Jordan's glad Peter sounds more amused than anything else.

But he swallows anyways. “Y. . .yeah, that'd be nice.”

Peter steps away and Jordan finds himself missing the hot line of him and also wobbling a little as he follows Peter's hands backwards. Another shiver wracks him as said hands slip under his t-shirt again and for a brief moment into his jeans. “And sit.”

It makes him feel a little like a dog, though apparently his dick doesn't mind, but he sits; a bit surprised when he ends up on Peter's lap and not on the carpeted riser.

Lydia, now on  _his_ lap, wiggles, which Jordan is realizing is a  _thing_ with her –not that he's going to complain any time soon, another grin on her face. “Well this definitely makes making out a lot easier.” As if to prove her words she turns a little and kisses Peter, her arms loosening from around Jordan since they're no longer needed to help her stay up. One hand leaves completely rising up to tangle in Peter's longish hair, while the other starts pushing up Jordan's t-shirt as if afraid he might feel left out otherwise.

Which he isn't considering Peter clearly does something with Lydia's mouth every so often that makes her push against Jordan in very enticing ways; though he's not quite sure what to do with his own hands. As a sort of test one stays on her thigh, fingers playing with what feels like lacy panties, while the other climbs up her back to start tugging down the zipper of her suit.

And he's not sure if it's in response to that or not but she breaks away from Peter and starts kissing him again. Though they have to pull away shortly thereafter so Peter and Lydia can completely remove his shirt. They're staring at the numbers again and Jordan finds himself fidgeting, which he thinks Peter likes, under their collective gazes.

Lydia pats his chest in a manner that feels vaguely possessive. “This was a fantastic surprise you know. I was half tempted to convince the whole team to throw the game if it meant Peter and I could get you quicker.” And again with the blushing.

Peter grins. “And I was half tempted to agree if she suggested it.” He leans down and nibbles and Jordan's collarbone, which draws a moan from him. “ _My_ number too,” which Jordan thinks is something Peter's never going to let either of them forget.

Before he can think too much into that though Lydia's shimmied the top half of her outfit off, revealing the laciest black bra Jordan's ever seen. Instinctively his hands rise up and cup them; though Lydia doesn't seem to mind, if the way she arches her back, bracing her hands against his knees, and sighs is anything to go by.

At least this is mostly familiar territory for him as he plumps one breast while plucking the nipple of the other, trying to be a bit more forceful that he usually is. She moans appreciatively though and is now constantly rubbing against him, he's pretty sure the damp spot on his jeans is her fault –which is fucking hot, while Peter continues his assault on Jordan's shoulder and neck.

“Fuck, if you two don't stop I'm gonna. . .” He can't even finish that sentence because they've redoubled their efforts with added hands fumbling to undo his jeans and tug his boxer-briefs down enough to grip him with said hands and. . .

He'd probably be more embarrassed about his come going everywhere if that weren't the best orgasm he thinks he's ever had. His torso slumps against Peter's and he gratefully rests his head on Peter's shoulder.

Jordan goes a little bug-eyed as he watches Lydia lap up the semen on her hand before leaning in and kissing Peter, and from the way they do it it's pretty clear she's sharing and that's Jordan's dick twitching because apparently he finds that hot. “Oh god.”

Peter and Lydia are laughing again when they break apart. Lydia leans down enough to kiss his cheek. “Did we break you again? I hope not, we wanted to try sex.”

He's not sure if he's laughing into Peter's neck or groaning. Either way it makes Peter snigger. “I think we're gonna have to give him a few minutes to catch up Lydia.” Peter does something Jordan can't currently see, probably the eyebrow waggle. “Now come here, I vaguely recall a reward being promised if we won. . .”

Lydia pushes herself against Jordan again as she and Peter kiss once more, which looks completely different from Jordan's current vantage point. And right now he feels totally fine with being passive if this is the show it gets him. He jumps when he feels Lydia's nails rake across his thigh before they move to push down Peter's shorts.

Almost unwillingly Jordan finds his gaze being drawn down as Lydia teases Peter's cock through his boxers for a few moments, while Jordan's own is trying to put forth a valiant effort towards recovery, before pushing those down as well.

Jordan feels like he could pass for a fire truck, it's not the first time he's seen another guy's dick but this most definitely isn't a cold lake in the middle of summer. He gets distracted from that for a few moments as Lydia shimmies off his lap and out of her outfit completely –her panties just as black and lacy as her bra.

Then she's kneeling down, leaning over Jordan and taking Peter into her mouth and. . . “Um,” he didn't think he could get hard that fast. “Should I move?” Granted, he's never given a blowjob before but it doesn't look all that comfortable for Lydia.

Lydia pulls up enough to say, “no,” before returning.

While Peter's response of a hand settling on Jordan's knee, nails biting through the denim, while the other tugs a bit _too_ hard on Jordan's hair. “Not on your life Parrish.”

“O. . .okay.” Then he's being pulled into another kiss with Peter, just as rough as the first, though not as sloppy. There's a slight tang to Peter this time too, Jordan whimpers when he realizes that's probably his own come he's tasting; and it's weird and strange and okay?

A faint  _pop_ sound comes from below and soon Lydia's back on his lap. Peter breaks their kiss and Jordan tries to breath as deeply as he can, his body and mind a tangle of intensities.

As if to get his attention Lydia wiggles, and Jordan gets the sudden urge to tie her down so she'll  _stop_ . Some expression must pass over his face because Peter arches an eyebrow. “And what caused  _that_ intense expression?”

“Uh, ah,” he's not sure he can form a complete sentence at the moment.

Lydia clicks her tongue, leans in and bites Peter's jaw. “Don't be mean Peter. We have more important questions to ask anyways.”

“Mmmm, true. You can do the honors sweetheart.” He lays an affectionate peck on her nose.

Her lips twitch in a smile as she turns her full attention back to Jordan. “So, Jordan. The most important question of the night is: do you want to be the middle of the sandwich or will I?”

It take a few moments for his addled brain to process that, and even then he's not exactly sure he heard her right. “Wait, what?”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Peter bite his lip, while Lydia huffs out her nose. “In more clearer terms will you be the one taking it up the ass or me?”

Jordan shifts uncomfortably, because while he's been thinking about that more often thanks to Lydia and Peter he's never actually  _tried_ anything remotely like that the few times he's let himself masturbate while thinking about having anal sex. So he's pretty sure that's something he's  _not_ ready for at the moment. “You.”

If either of them are disappointed by his answer they don't show it. In fact in the time it takes for him to blink Lydia's bra is gone. Her nipples are a pale pink and Jordan can't resist the urge to lean down and lick them. She lets out a stuttered gasp and arches against him.

“While this is a wonderful image, we're all going to have to get up and do some shuffling if we want this to work.” From Peter's tone Jordan isn't sure if he wants them to actually keep going or stop.

Jordan chooses stop though, and with a pout Lydia stands. He soon follows, taking the opportunity to finish taking off his jeans and underwear; though he regrets it a little when he's done, feeling self-conscious under their stares. Then Lydia licks her lips and Jordan feels his dick twitch. “Peter this is the best decision we've ever made.”

He's pretty sure that's a compliment, but he's soon distracted by Peter standing and joining him in nudity –Jordan's eyes go a little wide at the sudden expanses of leanness in front of him. And before he even thinks about it he's standing in front of Peter and bending down a little so he can lavish some attention on Peter's own collarbone. A _snarl_ rips from Peter's throat, which Jordan finds he takes immense pride in.

Moments later a sharp whistle breaks the two of them apart, drawing their attention back to Lydia. “While that was a wonderful image. . .” She gives a grin at Peter's affectionate huff. She doesn't say anything more; instead swaying her hips, her fingers hooking the sides of her panties and ever so slowly slides them down.  _Oh_ .

The curls of red are dark with moisture and Jordan wishes there was time for him to get down, spread her, and take his time eating her out.  _Maybe next time_ , that thought's a bit of a shock –even more so when he realizes it's true.

Clearly less embarrassed with her own nakedness than he is she sways over to them, taking a few moments to bend down enticingly as she rummages through the pockets of Peter's shorts, extracting two condoms and a small tube of what's probably lube. Jordan finds himself arching an eyebrow. “Expecting me to say yes?”

Then he's letting loose a sound that's embarrassingly like a squawk as Peter yanks him closer, nibbling on his ear for a moment. “No, I grabbed those from my locker after the game while Lydia picked to locks on the doors.”

Peter sits back down, tugging Jordan back onto his lap; which feels a lot more awkward now that their both naked, and Jordan hopes that passes sooner rather than later because he finds there might be quite a few more things he's willing to try with Peter –none of which mean anything if he's feeling shy.

Impulsively he reaches out and grabs Peter's cock. He gives an experimental pump, which drags a grunt out of Peter, and it's not as much like masturbation than he thought it would be. But before he can do anything further Peter stops him. “You keep that up Jordan and  _I'm_ going to come. Then Lydia'll have to wait even longer for sex, which generally makes her an impatient woman.” An agreeing hum comes from Lydia, who Jordan is surprised to discover is now right next to them. “So while I'd love to see where your inexperience takes us it'll have to wait.” He leans in and gives Jordan the same sort of nose kiss he'd given Lydia a while ago, which softens the blow a little.

Lydia insinuates herself between them, and stopping any and all other thoughts opens a condom packet with her teeth. Her grin is mischievous as she extracts the condom and reaches down to roll it on him. He leans his head against her shoulder when she gives him a single pump of her own. He hears the other packet tearing, then Lydia's pushing him off. “You should pay attention Jordan, this is where things get fun.” She teases as she lifts herself up a little, and then she's sinking down onto him and holy fuck.

She rips a  _whine_ from his throat, a sound Jordan's never made during sex before, as she sinks competently down, rippling and squeezing around him. She shifts forward, which changes the angle unexpectedly, and kisses him. There's a smile on her lips when she pulls away, before it turns into an 'oh' of surprise and she tightens around him. “You should watch,” she manages to whisper in his ear.

Jordan swallows, before getting up the courage to crane his neck forward enough to stare down the smooth, pale, and slightly freckled expanse of her back. All the way down to where Peter's fingers are clearly teasing and playing with her anus. Jordan watches transfixed as one of Peter's lubed fingers finally slips inside, then another and as they move Jordan swears he feels them.

All the while Lydia shiver and shudders against him, her tiny moans becoming a constant litany of sound. Finally Peter seems satisfied with his preparations and there's a bit more shuffling as Peter starts working his way in.

Almost identical moans escape Jordan and Lydia, and Jordan finds he can't really stay still anymore; grabbing her hips he spreads them a little wider –he's not really worried about it straining her he's seen her do side spits in practice before– before thrusting forward.

Lydia jerks, a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper tearing out of her mouth, and Jordan can feel Peter sink in a little deeper.  _Fuck._

They continue like that for a while, and by the time Peter's completely in Lydia's a gorgeous mess: one arm thrown back so it can tangle in Peter's hair, the other digging into Jordan's shoulder hard enough that he doesn't even feel it anymore, back arched so her head's resting on Peter's shoulder, her hair clinging to all of their sweating bodies.

She gives the quietest sigh Jordan's ever heard, and it's a bit of a shock to realize it's because she's orgasming. Jordan jerks inside her and she gives a happy hum, spreading her legs even further apart than he was pushing them.

Peter gives Lydia a swift, almost brutal looking kiss, “good girl.” And Jordan's not sure if that shiver started in Lydia or in him –especially now that he can clearly picture the other suggested possibility for tonight and Peter doing the same to him. One of Peter's hands pets Lydia's stomach while the other rests itself over one of Jordan's his own nails digging in making Jordan a sound he's not sure is in pain or pleasure. “Just follow my lead; and don't worry about holding back Lydia can take it, can't you sweetheart?”

A proud but loopy smiles spreads across Lydia's mouth as her eyes flutter shut. “Mmmmm, yes I can.”

Jordan's dick twitches as she ripples around them and he finds himself nodding.

Peter gives another quick, tooth-filled grin, before, without any warning, thrusting hard into Lydia. Hard enough that her eyes fly open and she voices a near silent gasp. Feeling a little tentative about it Jordan repeats Peter's action, which earns him a wiggle from her.

Emboldened he continues and he and Peter soon set up a rhythm.

He's not sure how much time passes, but eventually Jordan feels Peter's nails dig in even further which definitely _is_ painful but before he can complain about it Peter growls and from the way Lydia's started moving again he must be coming and. . . With a few more thrusts of his own Jordan's coming for the second time that night and he gladly lets himself slump forward onto Lydia's chest, laying a gentle kiss on her cleavage.

In a haze he feels Peter lift the hand he'd been covering. “Sorry dear,” he sounds genuinely contrite then shocks Jordan by licking the back of his hand, presumably to clean up the blood. Which doesn't seem to be the only thing Peter's intent on. His knuckles start brushing against the hair on Jordan's groin. Though it takes Jordan a few more moments to realize the other teen is driving Lydia into another orgasm.

This time it's preceded by a tiny moan, and her squeezing seems hell bent on convincing Jordan's dick it can go another round, which is a compete and utter lie.

For the next few minutes the only sounds in the room is their heavy breathing as they all start to come down. Then Lydia gives a decidedly unsexy wiggle, and he and Peter are helping her stand –with lots of kisses on her rising torso eliciting a steady stream of giggling from her. On shaky legs she stumbles over to Peter's shorts again this time pulling out a packet of wipes.

“Do you have bottomless pockets or something Peter?” It doesn't come out as the gripe Jordan meant it as.

But it does get a laugh from both of them. Lydia tosses the packet at them. “Come on you two if you don't clean up quick we're going to be _un_ fashionably late to Claire's party.” She starts pulling on her underwear and grimaces. “Christ I don't think I'm going to be able to sit.”

Peter gives a prideful laugh as he opens the packet.

Apparently cleaning up involves a lot more groping that Jordan thought it would, but eventually they're all clean and relatively put together. Lydia wraps her arms around theirs and leads them out of the music room. “Peter you're driving and Jordan you and I are doubling up because Peter got too enthusiastic.”

This time Peter groans. “Jesus Lydia, you didn't even complain this much last week when I spanked your ass red.”

Which makes Jordan stumble, and they're both laughing and pulling him along.

Jordan has no idea what this might be the start of, but he thinks he's already half in love with it.


End file.
